Appetite

In a house the size of a postage stamp
lived a man as big as a barge.
His mouth could drink the entire river
You could say it was rather large
For dinner he would eat a trillion beans
And a silo full of grain,
Washed it down with a tanker of milk
As if he were a drain.

6) Personification

There's a cat named Joe and you wouldn't want to know

But he thinks he'd like to be a Hippopotamus

And it sounds very strange, and he really wants to change

And in that way he's just like a lot of us

Oh, it wouldn't be so bad if he was certified as mad

But he's not... he holds a normal conversation

It's just that within he's in a different kind of skin

And it causes him a lot of botheration

7) Free Verse

After the Sea-Ship by Walt Whitman

After the Sea-Ship—after the whistling winds;

After the white-gray sails, taut to their spars and ropes,

Below, a myriad, myriad waves, hastening, lifting up their necks,

Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship:

Waves of the ocean, bubbling and gurgling, blithely prying,

Waves, undulating waves—liquid, uneven, emulous waves,

Toward that whirling current, laughing and buoyant, with curves,

Where the great Vessel, sailing and tacking, displaced the surface;

8) Imagery

The winter evening settles down

With smell of steaks in passageways.

Six o'clock.

The burnt-out ends of smoky days.

And now a gusty shower wraps

The grimy scraps

Of withered leaves about your feet

And newspapers from vacant lots;

The showers beat

On broken blinds and chimney-pots,

And at the corner of the street

A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.

And then the lighting of the lamps.

9) Onomatopoeia

Mom & Dad Are Home

Slam! Slam!
Go the car doors.
Jangle! Jangle!
Go the house keys.
Jiggle! Jiggle!
Go the keys in the door.
Squeak!
Goes the front door!
Thump! Thump!
That is me running down the stairs.
Guess what?
Mom and Dad are home!!

10) Symbolism

This place, inside, where all my feelings keep. That lies somewhere between my heart and soul. Should I, the guardian of my fortress seek, Protection from those, who would see them stole. So many times have you this bastion breeched, With scant regard for all the dangers posed. That my hopes and dreams should not be reached, By eyes that only wish my heart exposed. These inmates with their liberty restrained. That strive against their shackles and their chains. Am I their jailor too cautious to be blamed, To free them no matter what their claims. And if freeing them should reveal my heart, I might be also freed.. my life to start